


Unashamed

by kissesfromkrug



Series: 5 + 1 [6]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Edmonton Oilers, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Display of Affection, eventual established relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 08:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10917870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissesfromkrug/pseuds/kissesfromkrug
Summary: Let it never be said that Taylor Hall doesn't try to understand everything Ryan says to him.or, 5 Times They Show Affection In Private and the 1 Time It's Not So Private.





	Unashamed

**Author's Note:**

> Not for profit, all fictitious, and feel free to point out any mistakes (I need to say the same thing every time but whoopsie).

•1•

“ _Seriously_?” Ryan huffs as he throws down the controller. “Fuck this.”

“Nuge, you need some help?”

“Shut up.”

“Seriously though, you need—”

“I don’t need your help for anything, you’re never helpful,” Ryan interrupts, trying to mask his anger.

“That was a low blow, Ryan,” Taylor fake sighs, coming in the living room as Ryan, still sitting on the floor, picks up the controller again. “That stung.” He holds a hand to his heart, but Ryan ignores him. “Hello?”

“Go away.”

“Looks like the Nugget is pissy that he doesn’t know how to play video-games like a boss, eh?” Taylor teases, and Ryan set his jaw.

“How do people get you to shut up?” He asks through clenched teeth. “I need to add it to my ‘Book of Taylor’.”

“Aww, you have a book about me? How sweet.” Taylor smiles down at him, leaning in close. “What a weirdo.” Ryan doesn’t answer. “And by the way, there’s only one way to get me to shut up. I've heard it works pretty well.” Ryan glances up at him, and his heart skips a beat at the look in Taylor’s eyes.

“I’m not—” Ryan swallows hard and tries again. “Attractive thought, but I don’t trust you with any part of me in your mouth.” Taylor laughs, and Ryan’s face turns a bright red. “Seriously.”

“You seriously wouldn’t let me blow you? Wow, never heard that one before.” Taylor looks mildly shocked, but only leans in closer. “There _is_ another way that doesn’t involve dicks, now that I think about it. Since you apparently hate blowjobs, for some stupid reason.” Ryan squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself to stay calm. _Shut up shut up shut up shut up_ , he thinks while regulating his breathing.

“No.” His eyes are still closed when he feels a pair of lips brush his own. After a long moment of shock, Ryan lets go of his previous reservations and practically drags Taylor onto his lap—not that Taylor needed much convincing—and throws the controller on the couch. Taylor can hardly make a sound before Ryan’s kissing him fiercely, right hand sliding down into the back pocket of Taylor’s jeans. He squeezes, drawing out a breathy moan and wrapping his other arm around Taylor’s waist. He doesn't even give a shit anymore.

It’s the best first kiss _ever_.

•2•

“So.” Taylor breaks the silence as they’re driving home from a 4-1 home loss. Ryan looks over to him when he doesn’t seem to be continuing.

“What?”

“Remember the last time we hung out?” Ryan immediately straightens up in his seat, facing forwards and unleashing his lead foot as the light turns green.

“Yeah.”

“I liked that,” Taylor says lowly, and Ryan can hear the smirk in his voice. Fucker.

“Oh.”

“You didn’t?” Ryan doesn’t know how to answer. If he says no, then it probably won’t happen again, which would be bad, but if he says yes, that’ll defeat the point of hiding his feelings, because if Taylor knows, then it's _also_  bad because— “Nuge?”

“I um—” He swallows. “It—was okay.”

“It was _okay_?” Taylor asks incredulously. Ryan has yet to look back over at him. “Just _okay_? That wasn’t the hottest fucking kiss you’ve ever had?” Ryan stays silent. “You’re a horrible liar; just plain awful.”

“I didn’t lie about anything,” Ryan says finally, when they’ve almost arrived home. “I didn’t say anything.”

“So. Did you like it?” He looks down at his lap at Taylor’s repeated question when they reach another red light.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Yeah, I…I, uh, I liked it. Very enjoyable. Really really good.” Ryan wants to punch himself in the throat sometimes.

“Care to try it again?” Ryan jerks his head to stare. _Taylor thought making out with me was hot and—and he wants it again_? He questions himself in disbelief. _He wants to do it a_ gain _?_

“I, uhh—” Taylor makes a noise of frustration as they park. Ryan quickly gets out, but Taylor grabs his arm and pushes him back to the car. “Hallsy, we’re outside, you can’t—” He stops talking the moment Taylor flings his arms around his neck, holding Ryan close to his body.

“You’re so warm,” Taylor murmurs, the tip of his cold nose sending chills down Ryan’s spine as it comes in contact with the curve of his neck.

“Yeah, and you’re not. Let’s save the cuddling for inside, eh?”

“How ‘bout we just make out instead?” Ryan isn’t too opposed to that plan.

•3•

“Jesus— _shit_ , Taylor,” Ryan moans, Taylor’s gorgeous lips trailing a wet path down his chest. His fingers grip Taylor’s hair, lightly tugging on it. Taylor continues to kiss and nip at his hipbones while tugging down his boxers.

Taylor smirks as he gets a hand on Ryan’s dick, drawing another pleased sound from Ryan’s bitten lips. His tongue darts out to flick over the tip, and Ryan flinches. “Come _on_ ,” he whines as Taylor refuses to give him more than tiny licks. “Hurry _up_ , fuck _you._ ” Ryan’s never this agitated, and the simple thought that _Taylor_ made him like this is seriously turning him on.

“Someone’s impatient,” Taylor grins, and a frustrated Ryan yanks at Taylor’s hair again. He winces but leans down nonetheless. The moment he gets his mouth around Ryan, the brunette gasps in surprise. As his cheeks hollow and he begins to suck, Taylor closes his eyes. Above him, Ryan relentlessly grabs at his hair and lets out quiet, pained wheezes as he wriggles around.

“Ah, fuck!” He exclaims as Taylor’s teeth graze over the sensitive skin on the underside of his dick, and he bites down harder into his bottom lip. Taylor lays an arm over Ryan’s waist, keeping him in place as he takes more of him into his mouth. Ryan lets out a soft whine, and although it’s turning Taylor on, he enjoys it a lot more when his partner is talking to him.

He stares up at Ryan through hooded eyelids, trying to release at least _something_ from Ryan’s red lips. Ryan cries out as he looks down and Taylor sucks harder simultaneously, and Taylor makes a pleased sound, even with his mouth full. It vibrates up through Ryan’s dick, and he jerks again and groans.

His mouth is _full_ —the fact that it’s full of Ryan’s _dick_ is the best part of the whole situation. Ryan is falling apart because of _him_ , because _Taylor_ wanted to make _him_ happy.

•4•

“Fucking _finally_ ,” Ryan mutters to himself as Taylor emerges from the locker room in the depths of the United Center, in a downright horrible mood. If he hadn’t taken that stupid penalty…

“It’s not your fault,” Taylor repeats as they walk out to the street to hail a taxi. He took so long of a shower that Ryan told the guys on bus to leave without them, and they even stayed to talk for a while after. “It’s really not.”

“But if I wasn’t fucking stupid I wouldn’t have been in the box and they wouldn’t have had the chance to score and Talbo wouldn’t have had to try to save something from a three-on-one and then we wouldn’t have had to pull him with three minutes left and—”

“It’s not your fucking _fault_ ,” Taylor interrupts firmly. “Not your fault, and it’s not Talbo’s either.” Ryan falls silent, and as Taylor closes the rear passenger door of the taxi behind them, he asks quietly, “Are you hungry?”

“Is that _really_ the question you should be asking?”

“It’s the only important one right now. I’d rather not talk about the shitty passes I made all fucking night.” Ryan sighs, looking down at the floor of the car. “So. You hungry?”

“Yeah, I...I guess I kinda am.” He feels hot breath on his cheek, then a pair of lips tenderly kissing his cheek. They move down to his neck when Ryan shakes his head and shoves Taylor away. “I said I’m hungry, not horny.”

“But I’m hungry for _you_ ,” Taylor whines. He’s trying to lighten the mood, Ryan knows, but he doesn’t bite.

“How about a burger or a salad to knock out that craving?” Ryan suggests coldly. He folds his hands together so tightly that his knuckles whiten from the pressure. Taylor gently kisses his cheek again, pushing a strand of Ryan’s dark hair behind his ear and kissing that, too. Ryan shivers, and Taylor nips at the lobe. “No, stop it. Not now.”

“I love you,” Taylor says honestly, and Ryan feels his cheeks heat up and heart sink.

“I love you too,” he mumbles back, ashamed of his previously rude tone. His fingers loosen their grip on each other and shoulders relax. Taylor only wants the best for him.

“You better.” Ryan smiles, knowing that Taylor means it, hoping that Taylor understands him too. No, not hoping. He doesn’t have to _hope_ that Taylor gets it.

He _always_ does—or tries to, at least. Let it never be said that Taylor Hall doesn't try to understand everything Ryan says to him.

•5•

Taylor peppers scattered kisses across Ryan’s lips and cheeks to wake him up the off day before a big home game against Calgary, a big division rival. However, that’s the furthest thing from Taylor’s mind as his boyfriend blinks awake under him. “Hm?”

“Morning.” He continues to kiss all over Ryan’s face, from his sharp cheekbones to his rounded chin, from his cute little nose to the red spots forming in the centers of his cheeks, from the crinkles at the corners of his eyes to his forehead, and everywhere in between. He lingers a little longer on his mouth, to Ryan’s delight.

“Morning,” Ryan replies, dazed from Taylor’s mouth when he sits back up.

“Want some eggs?” Taylor scoots down the bed and lays his cheek on Ryan’s bare chest, loving the fact that whenever he’s with Taylor, he always seems to fall asleep without a shirt on.

“Mm. Sure.” Taylor lets his eyes flutter shut. Ryan shivers at the brush of eyelashes on his skin.

“Soon,” he mumbles, reaching up and wrapping his arms around Ryan’s neck. Ryan sets his hands on the smooth expanse of Taylor’s back and begins to stroke up and down. He lets his breathing settle again, wondering why they hardly ever shared in sweet moments like these.

 _Then again, we_ are _rough and tough hockey players_ , he thinks to himself _. We're never really supposed to look soft—_ never _supposed to show our weaknesses. I guess we're all trained like that._

“Stop thinking,” Taylor whines quietly, nuzzling his face into Ryan’s chest again and holding him closer. “Shut your brain up and go back to sleep. You’re thinking so much it hurts my brain too.”

“Oh yeah? Your brain is that sensitive?”

“Shut up.” Despite the remark, Taylor kisses Ryan twice before resettling himself and letting his legs spread across Ryan’s. “Mm, perfect.”

•+1•

“Yeah, boys, we did it!” Taylor shouts, skating straight into the group of celebrating teammates. His eyes meet Ryan’s, which have a glint in them that Taylor's rarely seen before. “You got it, babe, _fuck_ yeah!”

“Nice pass,” Ryan replies almost shyly when the group separates, still giving him that strange look.

“Nice fuckin’ OT-winner!” Taylor exclaims, shaking Ryan’s shoulders with the arm he has around them. “Nice fuckin’ _goal_!” He casually leads Ryan away from everyone, towards center ice. Their teammates are still smacking each other and shouting in their ears, and Taylor can usually tell when Ryan wants to avoid them for a moment.

“Thanks.” Ryan blushes, glancing down at his skates, and Taylor can finally identify the look. It’s when Ryan wants something, but doesn’t know the words to ask it or if Taylor will like the question. Taylor has never actually cared what Ryan asks him, really. If he wants to know something, then he wants to know, and Taylor would never withhold important information from Ryan when he’s being serious. He’s too far gone to refuse his boyfriend—at any time, really.

“What’s on your mind?” Ryan just stares at him for a moment.

“Can I—would now be—do you think I—” He swears under his breath at his stutters, tongue wetting his lips. Taylor follows the motion like it could save his life. “Do you want to, uh, should we—no _can_ we—um,  _fuck_ , I—”

“Can I kiss you?” Taylor blurts quickly. “Like, right now?” Ryan sighs in relief.

“Thank fucking _god_ ,” he breathes, grabbing Taylor’s face in his hands and kissing him deeply. The first one to notice is Ebs, who lets out a whooping cheer before Maroon shouts,

“I _knew_ it!” When Taylor finally lets go of Ryan, they’re both panting, and Ryan thinks he’s about to die.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he laughs, throwing his head back before hugging Taylor tightly.

“Well, thank you for that,” Taylor teases, “Anything else I already know?” Ryan smacks his shoulder as he lets go, and they chase each other to the bench and mentally steel themselves for the post-game interviews.

Taylor has a feeling the reporters won’t just be talking to Ryan about his game-winner.

 


End file.
